Chapter 74: Pride
"No, Father, think about it!" she cut him off, lighting her cigarette with a small gold lighter and blowing a cloud of grey smoke toward the ceiling.
"A blind girl? A woman whose ex-husband took her entire company out from under her? She has no money left, no position, no political weight! Her family name is a disaster in the news right now. What does she bring to the Kazarov family? Nothing!"
She paced back and forth in front of the desk, her voice rising with every step.
"I have spent five years making sure I was the obvious choice," Anya spat out, her tone laced with deep, wounded pride. "I carry the Orlov name. I know the families, I know the business, I know how our world works! I could give him an heir with the purest bloodline in the country. And he chooses a helpless, broken doll who can’t even see the room she’s sitting in?"
Alexei watched her, his own anger cooling into a cold, flat exhaustion. "It doesn’t matter what you offer, Anya. He chose her. You need to forget Aaron Kazarov."
"Forget him?" She stopped pacing, looking at her father as if he had spoken in another language. "You want me to just sit back and watch some useless nobody take the seat that was supposed to be mine?"
"There was never a seat for you to take!" Alexei said sharply, slamming his glass down onto the desk. "He shut down every proposal I made over the last few years. He never looked at you as a bride, Anya, and throwing a tantrum like a child isn’t going to change his mind!"
Anya’s eyes welled with angry tears, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them fall. "She won’t survive a month in his house. She’s too soft. She doesn’t belong in our world, and everyone knows it."
"It doesn’t matter if she belongs or not," a smooth, calm voice spoke from the open doorway. "Aaron will protect her regardless."
Both Alexei and Anya turned toward the door.
Walking into the room was Elena Orlova.
She was in her early fifties, dressed in an elegant dark silk gown with a heavy cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hair was styled back, her features sharp and quiet.
Where Alexei was prone to explosive anger and Anya was ruled by her pride, Elena was the cold, calculating mind behind the Orlov family’s private operations. She moved with a slow, effortless grace that instantly quieted the room.
"Mama," Anya said, stepping toward her mother with an appealing look. "Tell Father he’s being ridiculous. He’s telling me to just move on!"
Elena walked over to her daughter, reaching up with a slender, ringed hand to gently pat her cheek. Her touch was affectionate, but her eyes were completely cold.
"Your father is right, my love," Elena said softly. "You are wasting your energy on a man who has made his choice."
Anya pulled back slightly, her forehead scrunching up. "You’re taking his side?"
"I am taking the side of reality," Elena corrected gently. "Aaron Kazarov is not a prize to be won with tears or sharp words. He is an obstacle. And right now, screaming about his new bride does not move that obstacle out of our way."
Elena turned her gaze toward her husband. "Go to your room, Anya. Your father and I have work to do."
Anya opened her mouth to protest, but one look at her mother’s calm, unyielding expression made her shut it instantly. She let out a sharp, frustrated breath, turned on her heel, and marched out of the study, slamming the heavy door behind her.
Once the sound of Anya’s high heels faded down the hallway, Elena walked over to the desk. She picked up the crystal decanter, poured a fresh glass of liquor for her husband, and handed it to him.
"I take it the meeting did not go well," Elena said quietly.
Alexei took the glass, letting out a low, rough sound in his throat. "The Minister is entirely in his pocket. Aaron sat there like a king granting audience to peasants. He threatened to destroy our Baltic shipping lines right in front of the Council, and the old man simply laughed it off."
"Aaron knows his power," Elena said, leaning against the edge of the desk. "And the Minister knows that without the Kazarov network, half the government officials in Moscow lose their funding. He will not side with us against Aaron simply because Aaron was rude to you."
"He called the girl his future wife," Alexei muttered, staring into his glass. "He invited the Minister to the wedding. He acts as though the entire alliance belongs to him, as though he cannot be touched."
"Let him act," Elena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Pride is a quiet poison, Alexei. It makes powerful men careless."
Alexei looked up at his wife, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What did the Greeks say?"
A subtle, cold smile touched Elena’s lips. "They sent a messenger an hour ago. The Kastellanos family is tired of Aaron’s heavy hand in the Mediterranean. They don’t like the way he restructured the shipping tariffs last year, and they certainly don’t like that he acts without consulting the rest of the alliance."
Alexei set his glass down, his interest instantly piqued. "They agreed?"
"They are listening," Elena corrected smoothly. "That makes four families who are unhappy with his leadership. Two more are waiting to see which way the wind blows."
Alexei leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. "It’s not enough. You know what happened to the Antonovs when they tried to move against him directly. Aaron is a butcher when he’s backed into a corner. We cannot beat him in an open fight."
"We are not going to fight him in the open," Elena said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy tone. "We don’t need to defeat Aaron Kazarov with guns, Alexei. We need to break the illusion that he is invincible."
She stepped closer to his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"For ten years, the other families have followed him because they believe he cannot fail," Elena continued softly. "They believe he is too smart, too ruthless, too strong. But now, he is dividing his attention. He is taking on the political election here, he is fighting a war in America over his new bride, and he is dragging a blind, vulnerable woman into his house."
Alexei watched his wife, a slow, dark realization dawning on his face. "You want to use the girl."
"I want to let him get distracted," Elena corrected, her thumb gently tracing the seam of her silk sleeve. "Let him go to New York. Let him pour his time, his money, and his attention into protecting Isabella Kingston and fighting her ex-husband. While he is busy playing the hero across the ocean, we will quietly pull the foundation out from under his feet."
She looked straight into her husband’s eyes, her expression utterly cold.
"When the other families see that Aaron is too busy dealing with his personal life to manage the alliance, they will start looking for a new leader," Elena murmured. "And when the time comes to strike, he will find himself standing entirely alone."
Alexei stared at his wife for a long moment. The anger that had been burning in his chest since he left the Council meeting began to settle, replaced by a quiet, vicious focus.
He lifted his glass, taking a slow sip of the heavy liquor.
"How long?" Alexei asked quietly.
Elena looked toward the heavy curtains covering the tall windows, where the cold Moscow snow was beginning to fall heavily against the glass.
"As long as it takes," she replied smoothly. "Aaron Kazarov has spent years convincing this world that he cannot be replaced."
She turned back to him, a cold, sharp smile on her face. "Let’s give them a reason to wonder."